Adopted by Billie Eilish

26

When we get back home, I try to get out but shrink back in pain, clutching at my stomach. Billie immediately rushes over to my side and opens the door. I wrap my arms around her neck as she picks me up and carries me into the house. I whimper in pain, holding onto her tighter. She carries me into the nearest bathroom and sets me down on the edge of the tub. She opens up the closet and sets some towels on the ground and then helps me lie down on them. I clench my teeth as the cuts sting again. The knife did quite a bit of damage to me. She grabs some hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, and large bandages. I begin backing up towards the wall when I see them.

"I-I don't want to do this," I say. "I can't do this!"

"You can do this," she tells me. "You're strong. You can get through this. It'll only last a few minutes, I promise. Can you do it for a few minutes? For me? Please?"

I nod. I don't want her to get upset. I feel like I'm always a disappointment. I especially felt that way to Mom when I was five. Like everything I did wasn't good enough for her. Maybe that's why she cried all the time. It's the only vivid detail that I remember about her. I remember her eyes, though. They looked kind of familiar.

And all of a sudden, flashbacks start coming back to me.

Mom's phone begins to ring. I look up from the small table that I'm coloring at, scribbling outside of the lines. I'm four years old again. My older sister and brother are in their rooms. Mom picks up the phone and answers it. I see her stare off into the distance for a few moments before her face drops.

"Are you — are you sure?" she asks. A few seconds pass before she drops the phone. It shatters across the ground, shards of the broken screen scattering across the floor. The call ends, as well as the phone's life. Mom immediately sits in the kitchen chair and breaks down. I stand up and walk over to her.

"Mommy?" I ask. "What's wrong?"

Mom sniffs. "N-Nothing, Brooke. It's just that your dad —"

"Daddy's coming home?" I squeal. "When will he be here?"

She sighs and breaks down again. "That's the thing, Brooke. He won't be coming back. Ever again."

I'm confused. What does she mean by that? I think she can tell by the look on my face because she takes a deep breath before continuing.

"Honey . . . Daddy's dead."

I feel my vision getting cloudy as I begin wailing, dropping to the floor and having a huge meltdown. I hear my siblings leave their rooms and come over.

"What happened, Mom?" my brother asks.

"Dad died in a car wreck," Mom tells them. "I just got the call. I'm sorry."

My brother and sister begin crying and surround Mom, hugging her. Nobody comes to hug me, to comfort me. Nobody's here for me. I stand up and wipe my eyes, walking to the living room and sitting down on the couch. Our dog jumps up. I bury my face in her fur, knowing she's the only comfort that I'll have.

A few months later, Mom felt lonely, so she got herself a boyfriend. He's not very nice and hits us pretty often. It got so bad that my siblings went to live with our uncle. I, of course, was left behind. I was okay with it because I got to stay with Mom. 

Until the night he killed her.

I remember walking downstairs for something and seeing a lot of blood. Then I saw the weapon. And I heard the warning he gave me. And after that, I immediately ran upstairs, knowing I didn't have anyone. I doubt my siblings would come back for me. Now I have to live with that slob who drinks a lot and who also killed my mom. 

Someday, I plan to get my revenge on him.

"Brooke?"

I snap out of my thoughts and look up at Billie, who's looking at me with a mix of confusion and concern on her face.

"Brooke? Are you good? You kind of zoned out for a few minutes."

I nod. Absent-mindedly, I walk down the stairs, Billie following to try and herd me back into the bathroom. Billie grabs my wrist and spins me around so I'm looking at her. 

And I notice something weird.

She has Mom's eyes.

I gasp and free myself from her grip, grabbing a random photo album. I begin flipping hurridly through the pages until I find an old family photo.

There's me, I think. And Mom and Dad and my sister and brother and our dog! 

And then it all hits me.

Billie's my sister.